Hiking Adventures
by SciFiJ
Summary: Steve drags Danny and Grace along for a hiking trip. What could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi all! I'm new to H5-0 fiction, but have dabbled in other fandoms before. My love for this show will never waver, and I hope it is renewed for season 9, maybe even 10. This story takes place early in the show, I'd say season 3ish, not quite sure if I will reference any specific eps or not. Recently I have more free time as well, so I'm planning on writing a lot more, including my own novel. Hope you enjoy! The typical disclaimer applies, I don't own the characters, etc. Rated T for thematic elements and peril. P.S. Please forgive any geographical or other errors, I'm not a native Hawaiian and there is only so much Google can tell me ;).

Hiking Adventures, Chapter 1.

Danny huffed a breath and wiped his dripping brow. It was a regular Hawaiian Tuesday, temperature hovering around 85 degrees Fahrenheit, and his buffoon of a partner had thought it was a great day for a hike. Danny looked ahead at Steve's shrinking figure. "Hey cargo pants," he called out. "Why don't we rest a minute? It's freakin' hot and I'm tired."

Steve paused and turned to face his whiny partner. "Come on Danno, even Grace is handling this even better than you, isn't that right Grace?"

Danny's daughter cupped a hand over her mouth to keep her dad from hearing her giggle. "Right Uncle Steve," she whispered gleefully. They high-fived dramatically for Danny's benefit, and he rolled his eyes.

"You're a terrible influence on my beautiful monkey Steven," Danny groused, but inside he was amused. Grace had blossomed around Steve, becoming less shy and more adventurous. As much as Danny hated to admit it, Steve was tremendous around kids, and was a patient teacher to Grace. He taught her countless wilderness survival tips, like how to tie a rope into complicated knots, what plants were edible and which weren't and even useless trivia facts. Grace absolutely adored her adopted uncle, and Danny couldn't be more grateful that Steve had stepped in when Danny's own brother couldn't fill the familial role. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he trudged ahead to keep up with them.

Grace giggled again and wrapped her arms around her dad, and thanked him for allowing her to tag along on the impromptu hiking trip. Steve made it routine to go to a different trail around the islands at least once a month, whenever work permitted. Sometimes he went alone or various members of 5-0 joined him. This time it was Jersey's turn, much to his chagrin. They hadn't gotten the chance for several weeks due to criminals running amuck all over the islands.

For this trip Steve had decided on Waimano Falls, on O'ahu. This trail in particular was known for being somewhat difficult, and Danny had hesitated when Grace asked if she could go. Steve insisted they could turn back or he would carry her if things got too rough, so in the end Danny consented, albeit reluctantly.

So far the trail had been rather tough, but still doable. Grace happily clambered along after Steve, her ponytail bouncing every which way in the hot breeze, chattering about all sorts of topics, from boys to what she was learning in science class at school. Steve was listening intently and chattered back nearly as much, and Danny could see the stress of the last few months leave his partners' face. Being a cop had its pitfalls, and stress had been doing a number on both of them, making this little jaunt a much needed respite from the criminal hunting chaos.

Ahead of them, the trail narrowed and looked a little bit steeper. Steve glanced around and motioned to Grace. "Let's rest a minute Gracie. The trail gets harder from here on and we need to rest for a minute."

Danny sighed dramatically and plopped himself down on a large moss-covered rock to the left of the trail. Grace plopped herself on his knee and planted a kiss on his cheek. "What was that for Monkey?" he asked with a smile. She leaned her sweaty head on his shoulder and whispered, "Just because I love you Danno." Danny hugged her tightly, extremely grateful to have her with him.

Steve watched their interaction, and something akin to sadness flitted across his features for a split second then was gone, but not without Danny noticing. He pretended he hadn't, for Steve's sake. The man didn't know how to convey his emotions well, so Danny let it go without comment.

Steve wiped his face with a blue bandana he had tied around his neck, and gulped a long drink from his stereotypically camouflaged canteen. It had been somewhat of a gag gift from Danny the previous Christmas, but it had come in handy on many occasions.

He surveyed the trail ahead in amicable silence, listening while Danny chatted with his daughter. It was getting later in the day, so he was mulling over his plan for turning back, so they could get back to the base of the trail and his truck before dark. They had already been hiking for several hours, and while Grace carried on like a trooper, he could tell she was getting tired.

He dug into his backpack and pulled out a smaller insulated bag, which contained ham and cheese sandwiches and fruit cups, along with a bottle of chocolate milk for Grace. "Who's hungry?!" he exclaimed, with a wink in Grace's direction. She squealed in delight upon being handed the milk, and hurriedly shoved it into Danny's hands for him to open it.

The three quietly munched on their food, with Danny volunteering the occasional terrible joke to entertain Grace. Her giggles and dramatic sighs filled the quiet air, and Steve relaxed in contentment. It was times like these he was incredibly happy life had brought him back to Hawaii, even though horrible circumstances had been the first motivation. While his life had definitely thrown him in between a rock and a hard place quite a few times, times like these helped refocus him. They helped him survive.

He was brought out of his reverie by Danny chucking Grace's empty bottle at his shoulder. "Wake up cargo pants," Danny said mischievously. Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname, and retorted with the fact Danny was also wearing cargo pants on this hike. That quickly but a stop to Danny's jabs. They packed up their trash into a separate bag Steve passed around, and resumed their hike.  
Steve led the way, armed with a machete to cut through the overgrown vines. Danny held Grace's hand to guide her on the increasingly unsteady trail. After several minutes of Steve's brush hacking and Danny nearly toppling over, he cleared his throat. "Excuse me super SEAL, I think we should call it a day. It's getting impossible to take a step without slipping," he insisted.

Steve turned around to face him. He wiped his brow on his sleeve, and sheathed his machete. "You're probably right Danno," he agreed, reluctance clear in his voice.

Grace leaned against her dad and yawned, solidifying Danny's opinion. He knelt down and let her climb onto his back, like a monkey. "I want to see the waterfalls Danno," Grace insisted, then yawned again.

Steve smiled and patted her head. "Don't worry honey, we'll try again another day. Gotta get an earlier start next time," Steve reassured her. Suddenly the former SEAL straightened and his face visibly tightened. He scanned their surroundings intently, motioning to Danny for silence. He signaled for Danny to get down, which the Jersey detective didn't argue with. He swiftly knelt down and shielded Grace, shushing her questions.

Whatever Steve sensed, it wasn't friendly fellow hikers; that much Danny could guarantee. Unfortunately they both had left their service weapons at home, and all they had for protection was Steve's machete. Or so Danny thought.

Steve deftly pulled his secondary weapon from a small concealed pocket in his pack, still holding his index finger over his lips in the universal sign for quiet. "I'm going to circle around," he whispered, so quietly Danny barely made out his words. Without another word, Steve disappeared into the shrubbery.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi! Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. The action picks up in this chapter. Onwards!

Hiking Adventures, Ch 2.

Steve slipped under a low hanging branch with practiced ease, muscles tense. His SEAL senses were tingling as Danny liked to say. He flattening himself against a thick tree when he could've sworn he heard voices up ahead. A mix of native pidgin and broken English. He knelt down onto his stomach, his gun ready.

Slowly crawling forward on his elbows, he carefully parted the bush with the barrel of his gun. What he saw left him speechless. It was a drug cooking ring, the smell of the chemicals used to cook meth assaulting Steve's nose. He blinked a drop of sweat out of his eye, and carefully counted the men mulling about, all of them sporting some type of automatic weapon.

He was definitely outgunned, that much was obvious. Nearly 20 men paced the area, none of them looking particularly friendly. Steve slowly inched backward. He had to get back to Danny and Grace to keep them safe before doing anything else. He couldn't risk them getting caught in the middle of some no-good drug runners. He slowly stood and turned to go back the way he had come. Instead he came face to face with one of the smugglers.

Before the thug could react Steve was on him like a panther, arms locked around the thug's neck like a vice. The man flopped and writhed, gasped for air while trying to raise his weapon. Steve knew if that gun fired he was in a steaming pile of trouble. He tightened his hold around the thug's neck, but the smaller Hawaiian was able to land a sharp elbow into Steve's ribcage.

Momentarily stunned, Steve let out a strained breath, his hold slipping. The thug saw his chance and wrestled free, managing to retain his hold on his AK-47. Steve recovered quickly and lunged, his combat knife in hand. _Don't let him fire!_ His senses screamed at him. Both men tumbled to the ground, each struggling for traction and the upper hand.

Thug #1, as Steve's subconscious named him, was a good fighter, strong and wiry. He managed to stomp Steve's knife from his hand, breaking a bone or three in the process. The pain was awful, and Steve couldn't help an audible grunt from escaping his lips. The thug leapt on top of him, raining down blow after blow to Steve's face and jaw. The SEAL managed to block one and use the thug's momentum against him, wrenching his arm down and throwing the smaller man off-balance. He rolled away and made a jump toward the dropped machine gun, only one thought racing through his mind: _get to the gun first._ Danny and Grace's lives depended on it. Thug #1 scrambled after him, landing another hard punch into Steve's side, causing him to roll onto his back. The gun was a few inches away from his outstretched fingers when a scorching pain erupted from his gut. Thug #1 had somehow gotten a hold of his combat knife, and plunged it into his stomach. Steve resisted the urge to scream, his nerves frying from the pain.

He lurched forward with all the effort he could muster, and felt his fingers close around the butt of the AK-47. Summoning all his remaining strength, he swung it as hard as he could at the thug's head and connected with a resounding * _crack_ *, the man tumbling off of him.

Steve gasped for air, black spots blurring his vision. He managed to open one eye to glance down at his wound. The 2 inch wide, 8 inch long serrated blade was buried in his gut up to the hilt, and leaving it in was not an option. He also couldn't stay where he was, because sooner or later the other thugs would notice their missing goon.

He willed himself to stay awake. The knife had to come out, it was now or never. He dragged himself under more cover farther away from the drug camp, and leaned haphazardly against a tree, shaking with every breath. The knife grated his gut with every tiny movement.

The pain was reaching a crescendo, and Steve knew if he lost consciousness Danny and Grace would be in danger. He pulled his bandana up to his mouth and bit down on it, to muffle the screams he knew he couldn't hold in. _This was going to suck._ Taking one last shaky breath, he clamped his good hand around the knife's handle. For a moment he hesitated. Should he just yank it out on the count of 3 or go slower to minimize damage? He decided to just go for it, clenching his teeth hard.

The pain was unbearable, his face twisting in agony. He dropped the knife and fought to stay conscious. _Danny…Grace…they needed him._ He dropped the bandana out of his mouth and gasped. The wound was bleeding copiously, so Steve forced himself to sit up straighter, and lift up his shirt. Fortunately he still had his pack, and managed to shrug it off his shoulders, the effort exhausting his remaining energy. His eyes drooped, but he forced himself awake again. No time for passing out, he stubbornly reminded himself.

Pulling open the bag, he retrieved his trusty first aid kit, although it wasn't exactly equipped to handle stab wounds from a large combat knife. Stuffing it with gauze and medical tape would have to suffice, at least until he could reach Danny and warn him.

-H50-

Danny pressed himself deeper into the bush he and Grace were hiding in, her small body shaking against his. He rubbed circles on her back in an effort to comfort her, but the shakes continued, and a tiny sob escaped her lips. Danny pulled her face close to his, meeting her teary eyes. "It's gonna be okay monkey, I promise," he whispered into her ear. "Uncle Steve will handle whatever is out there, and then we'll go home."

He pulled his phone out even though he knew that out here cell service was non-existent. Sure enough, zero bars. He resisted the urge to swear, both for his daughter's sake and whatever was concerning Steve. There was still no sign of the annoying but always reliable Navy SEAL, and least 45 minutes had passed. His legs were beginning to cramp, so he quietly shifted his position around a tired and scared little girl. "Where's Uncle Steve?" Grace whispered. "What if he got hurt or is lost?"

Danny tightened his arms around his daughter, consoling her. "Babe, Uncle Steve is very capable of taking care of himself. I'm sure he's on his way back to us right now." Danny felt bad about the possible lies he was telling his kid, but her getting more worried and upset would not help their predicament.

Suddenly rustling erupted to the left of their hiding spot, and Steve tumbled to the ground beside them. He looked horrible. Blood covered his midsection and swollen hand, and dripped from various cuts and scrapes on his face. Steve lay there gasping for a split second, and then met Danny's eyes with urgency. "Not a lot…of time," he ground out. "Ran into some…meth cookers, about half a mile…up the trail," he gasped. "One of em'… spotted me…took him out…eventually." Steve grimaced again, clutching his gut and riding out the wave of pain. He shoved the rifle he had taken from Thug #1 into Danny's hands. "You gotta get Gracie…away from here," he insisted. "Won't take them long…to find the guy I neutralized," he continued.

Danny still couldn't believe this was happening. Grace was holding onto his neck so hard he was nearly out of breath. He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt, and her small body tremoring in fear. "Steven, let me get that bleeding under control," Danny demanded.

Steve shoved him away. "There's no time Danny!" the urgency in his voice rising. "Take the gun and go! I will distract them while you get down the trail…you should have cell service…eventually," he retorted. "Gracie comes first. Always."

Danny reluctantly accepted the gun and made sure a round was chambered. Suddenly they heard yelling, and Steve forced himself to his feet, broken hand pressed against his stomach, and good hand holding his handgun.

Danny scooped Grace onto his back with whispered commands for her to hang on tight. With one last concerned gaze, he met Steve's eyes. "I'll bring the cavalry," he said, reassuring himself more so than Steve. The wounded man nodded, then disappeared into the brush again.

Danny took a deep breath and took off in a careful jog, mindful to stay close to the path, but still out of sight. This hiking trip was getting worse by the second.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! :D they give me the energy to continue. A small reference to S2, E1 in this chapter. I received a pm with tips to improve my format, so hopefully that shows in this chapter onwards. It's been awhile since I wrote anything other than academic essays, so forgive me!

Hiking Adventures, Ch 3.

Steve slipped through the overgrown brush as quickly as his wounded body would allow. The compartmentalization skills he learned in SEAL training were coming in handy, and provided his brain with somewhat of a respite from the burning pain. He slumped against a tree to catch his breath. He allowed himself a minute to get a drink of water from his canteen, relishing the cool liquid. He had made sure to leave some obvious signs behind, to guarantee the drug smugglers would follow him and not Danny and Grace.

A ripped branch here, a drop of blood there. He also wanted to give them the illusion he was an easy target. Although he figured that was probably impossible now since he had already dispatched one of their men. He strained to hear their shouts, trying to decipher which direction they were coming from. Danny was heading north, down the trail and to the safety of Steve's truck, which contained a SAT-phone in the dash compartment. Steve was grateful he remembered to charge the battery on the phone the previous evening. With any luck, Danny would get the cavalry on the phone quickly and this nightmarish hiking trip would be over. He just needed to outrun these idiots a little longer.

Taking another gulp of water to down several mild painkiller pills from his med-kit, he forced himself to stand once again. The pills wouldn't likely make a difference, but Steve hoped they would act as a placebo and distract his mind from the singeing pain in his abdomen. The knife had entered at an upward angle on his left side, in the lower left quadrant. He hoped it hadn't hit anything vital, but there was no way to know. Any movement he made reignited the fire, yet he pushed through. He couldn't let Grace fall into the hands of scumbags, not while he was still breathing. Adjusting his grip on his gun, he trudged on.

The voices of his pursuers were getting louder, so he needed to put some distance between himself and them. He snaked in and out and around each bush and tree in his path, in an effort to confuse and mislead. He knew his wound needed a clean bandage soon because now he was leaking blood where he didn't mean to. He paused to check his watch. 4:49 pm. He had about 2 hours of good daylight left, maybe a bit more. He hoped Danny would be able to make it down the trail faster than they'd climbed up since he was now carrying Grace. Steve was used to moving in the dark if the situation called for it, but not while wounded and nearing exhaustion.

Realizing he didn't hear voices anymore, he allowed himself time to sit and redress his stomach. Peeling off the sticky bandage wasn't a pleasant experience, and he ground his teeth in discomfort. Tossing the soggy glob into the bush behind him, he set to work unwrapping more gauze from the roll. This time he tore a small wad off and stuffed it inside the wound, to try and staunch the bleeding more, the act reminding him of Victor Hesse's prison shank ordeal. It burned and made his eyes water, a tear streaking down his face. _This. Sucks!_ Another wad of gauze covered by generous amounts of tape, and his wound's leaking abated, for the time being. The pain was back in full force however, the mild painkillers useless. His broken hand was swollen and splotched with purple bruising, virtually unusable. He tried to drink more water but that just resulted in it being gagged back up. All his energy gone, Steve fell against a tree, and permitted himself a groan. He felt his body trying to give up, all his reserves spent. His eyes drifted closed against his will.

* * *

Danny allowed himself to stop for a moment to catch his breath. Grace still clung to his neck tightly, a slight sob escaping every few minutes. Danny's heart broke for her. She had just been forced to see her beloved uncle injured and covered in blood. Danny regretted letting her come along with all of his being. He refused to blame Steve, although he was sure the former SEAL was blaming himself. How could he have known there was a gang of armed and dangerous meth cookers on this trail? Danny wiped his forehead and leaned down to let Grace sit beside him. "Take a drink monkey," he told her quietly. She silently accepted the small bottle he handed her. Danny glanced at his watch. It was nearly 5:30pm, dusk would be arriving soon. Nightfall would certainly complicate things in regards to rescuing Steve and raiding the drug ring. His legs ached from the pace and treacherousness of the downhill trail, but aching calves was a small price to pay compared to what Steve had going on, Danny reminded himself. He checked his phone for the fifth time since they left Steve, still no service. The detective swore under his breath. "Come on honey," he beckoned to Grace. "We gotta keep moving."

* * *

Steve jolted awake, gun cocked and finger on the trigger. He was alone, save for a few birds perched above him in the tree. Unsure of what woke him up, Steve chose to believe it was instinct. He checked his watch warily. 6:45pm. He'd been out for nearly an hour. And it was getting dark. Mentally kicking himself, he hoisted his aching body upright. The short rest had cleared the fog from his brain a little bit, so for that he was grateful. He leaned against the tree to analyze his surroundings. Nothing stood out immediately, the foliage looking identical to everything else he'd seen so far on this hike. He was now quite a good distance from the actual trail he estimated. Good. The farther away he was from the trail Danny and Grace were on the better. He took a deep breath and pushed on. He could use the darkness to his advantage and circle back around to the drug hideout, and keep the element of surprise in his favor. They would not expect their wounded prey to go back to a gang of brutes who would kill him on sight. At least he hoped.

Steve continued pushing through the overgrown foliage at what felt like a snail's pace, but his wounds and desire to stay quiet permitted nothing else. All he could think about was Danny and Grace. Did they reach his truck by now? Were they safe? He hoped to God they were because he would never forgive himself if anything happened to them on a trip he planned. Upon holstering his handgun, he pulled out his phone and launched his compass app, careful to dim the bright screen first. Right now he was heading southwest, toward a steep incline of rock and thick vines. Up and over didn't seem like a possibility, but if there was no other way around, he would have to find a way.

* * *

Danny forced his legs to move faster as he sensed the trail evening out. Steve's Silverado was just up ahead, and he was nearly frantic to reach it. He could feel Grace raise her head from his shoulder and yawn. Her tears had finally ceased, but she still shook with fear. Danny exclaimed in relief when they burst into the small clearing at the base of the trail, the blue truck shining in the faint moonlight. He eased Grace down from his back and set her down gently. Upon finding the doors locked, Danny picked up a fist-sized rock and smashed it into the passenger window without hesitation. _I'll pay for that later,_ he thought to himself. He threw open the door and dug into the dash compartment, hurriedly searching for Steve's SAT-phone. The bulky device was the first thing his fingers touched, and he frantically dialed Kono. She picked up on the second ring, concerned. Danny was out of breath and wheezing, but managed to get her the critical details of what had happened. Steve heard something. Vanished. Came back injured. Left again. Drug cookers. Meth. Armed and dangerous. Waimano Falls trail. To her credit, Kono easily understood Danny's urgent mumbles. She promised to gather the cavalry, a helicopter, and armed search teams, along with notifying the rest of 5-0. Danny hung up with a sigh of relief. Help was on the way.

He scooped Grace up and put her in the back seat of the truck, away from the broken glass in the front seat. He then jumped in the driver's seat and started the truck by hot-wiring it. The engine revved loudly and he threw the shifter in reverse, tires grinding into the soft dirt and rock of the field's terrain. _I'm driving like Steve drives my Camaro,_ he thought with a grunt of amusement. His goal now was to get Grace to safety and join his team in the rescue efforts, his exhaustion all but forgotten.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hope you guys are liking the story so far. I realized how atrocious my formatting was in previous chapters, so I have revised them and re-uploaded. To a review left by Gertie: the story isn't over yet…I will try to oblige :). Also please forgive any medical inaccuracies, I'm no doctor :P.

Hiking Adventures, Ch 4.

Danny skidded to a stop in front of the Palace, Steve's truck sirens blaring. Kono and Chin emerged in their vests and armed for a war. Danny jumped out of the truck and circled around to retrieve Grace from the backseat.

His ex-wife Rachel was waiting just inside the Palace doors, and tearfully scooped her from Danny's arms, for once not hounding him for the potential danger her baby had been put in. Instead she squeezed his arm gratefully and she sobbed into Grace's tangled hair. He hugged them both, ignoring Step-Stan's presence nearby.

With a final squeeze, he released them. "I need a vest and weapons," he informed Chin. Barely 30 seconds passed before an HPD officer handed him the requested items.

Kono looked him up and down, concern clear in her features. "Are you sure you're up for this Danny? You look exhausted."

The detective barely looked up from adjusting his vest's Velcro straps. "I'm fine, I'm fine okay? I'm just a little tired, Steve is up there in the freakin' forest alone, injured. Probably surrounded by those goons by now." He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "We've gotta go now!"

Chin placed a calming hand on Danny's shoulder. "Listen brah, we will get Steve back. I've got a load of 4-Wheelers coming so we'll be able to get up the trail faster than on foot."

Danny nodded, sighing. "Good idea. We need to get back up there as fast as possible, and with the engine noise they'll sure as hell hear us coming."

Just then two trucks pulling trailers loaded with the 4-Wheelers pulled into the Palace parking lot. Chin whistled for everyone's attention. "Listen up everyone. Commander McGarrett is up the Waimano Falls trail about 7 miles, and stumbled upon a meth operation. We're gonna go in and wreck their little party and bring McGarrett back in once piece."

Everyone nodded, raring to go. Chin turned back to Kono and Danny. "Only two people can fit on each 4-Wheeler, so Kono and I will take one, and Captain Watkins from SWAT needs a spot too, along with the rest of his unit."

Danny nodded to the captain as Chin pointed him out. The SWAT captain was a large man, probably taller than Steve. He shook Danny's hand firmly. "Nice to meet you Detective. Steve has been a friend to me for a long time. We were stationed together in the Navy for a while some time ago."

Danny permitted himself a small smile. "It's nice to have SWAT along on this one. We need to get going."

Chin whistled again and everyone scrambled to their assigned vehicles. The rest of 5-0 along with Captain Watkins climbed in an unmarked black Chevy Tahoe, and led the way, the load of 4-Wheelers and the rest of the police search teams in tow.

-H50-

Steve grunted in pain after accidentally bumping into a broken tree branch that jutted out in front of him. It was now so dark that any movement at all was challenging. Even the normally bright moonlight couldn't penetrate the dense tree line. He wearily checked his watch again, and the small screen lit up, highlighting the fact that it was nearly 9pm.

The terrain had steepened exponentially, forming a sharp rock incline, and he really didn't feel up to climbing. His abdomen pulsed with each heartbeat, the pain dulled to a sharp ache, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. His whole body shook from exhaustion and blood loss. He leaned against a rock outcropping, sighing. He just couldn't go another step. He slowly sunk to the ground, breathing shaky. He needed help, that much was obvious. Forcing himself to drink more water, he leaned his head back, and stared off into the distance, eyes not focusing on much of anything. _Worst hiking trip ever,_ he mused. Eyes drifting closed, he allowed himself to lie down, hoping rest would improve his condition enough to where he could keep going.

-H50-

Upon arrival in the clearing at the base of Waimano Falls, Danny jumped out of the Tahoe before it stopped, and checked his gun for the 5th time. The vehicle headlights bathed the area in bright white light, making it almost appear like daytime. Captain Watkins yelled for everyone's attention, motioning to Danny to take the lead.

Danny cleared his throat and began. "Steve is up there somewhere, but we don't know exactly where. We brought a cell signal booster to try and see if we can track his movements that way." He motioned to the sky. "SWAT helo will circle the area and perform a grid search. With any luck they will be able to show us exactly where the meth hideout is and we'll go from there. These guys are armed and dangerous, so stay alert, safeties off." Danny took a deep breath. _I sound like Steve…maybe too much._ He cleared his throat again. "Let's move people!"

Teams of two divided up the 6 available 4-Wheelers, the rest having to keep up on foot, with 10 officers instructed to stay behind and form a perimeter. Danny hopped on one of the 4-Wheelers behind Captain Watkins, and they were first on the trail.

-H50-

Faint sounds filtered their way into Steve's fatigued mind. _Voices? Wind?_ He couldn't tell, but it was too much effort to listen closely. Instinct took over when a loud yell pierced the air, followed by dogs barking viciously. His bleary eyes shot open, scanning the surroundings. If the drug runners had brought out dogs to track him, that would bad. He'd unwillingly been leaving a blood trail behind him for what seemed like miles.

He pushed himself up to his knees, straining from the effort. The change made his head swim, and he almost toppled over. He weakly punched the ground in frustration, because his body wouldn't cooperate with what his brain knew he needed to do. With one last heave, he forced himself upright. His energy was nearly depleted, but he wasn't going to just lay down and die. SEALs didn't do that. He checked his phone again, only to see the battery level indicator go into the red. _Crap._

He un-holstered his Glock 17 and checked the mag. 17 round clip, but no spare. He would have to make his shots count. He stood as still as a tree, straining to hear where the voices and barking was coming from. Not far away, but also not close enough to be concerned quite yet, he determined. If they got too close, he decided he would bunker down in a defensible position, with the rock outcrop guarding his six. Grace and Danny's safety was still taking over his thoughts.

Suddenly he heard the unmistakable whirring _thwup thwup_ of helicopter blades. The cavalry! He just needed to find an opening in the tree line so he could flag them down. The helo's presence was a relief for more than one reason; it meant Danny had made it to safety. The revelation gave his anxiety pause, allowing him to focus on reaching the rescue teams.

The noise from the dogs was increasing, meaning they had probably found his trail. It was time for escape and evade tactics. He mentally took stock of his injuries. His abdomen burned, but not overwhelmingly so. The rest seemed to have helped. His left hand still looked mangled, and was basically numb. That didn't seem good, but for the moment Steve was grateful it didn't hurt more. Overall he wasn't liking his chances should the meth goons find him. One useful hand, limited ammo, weak body. He had to reach the search teams before that happened.

He took a deep breath, willing his body to cooperate. The rock face seemed to stretch out for hundreds of yards to his left, so that didn't seem like a viable option. He turned to the right, and plunged back into the thick foliage, his original plan to circle back to the hideout abandoned.

-H50-

The scenery virtually flew by Danny's face as he held on to Captain Watkins' vest, their 4-Wheeler easily handling the bumpy terrain. The vehicle's headlights illuminated the trail ahead, and Danny occasionally recognized a certain spot. They were heading the right direction. He checked his watch for what seemed like the millionth time. 10:45 pm. He had this nagging feeling that Steve was running out of time. He clicked the button on his earpiece that connected the ground teams with the search helo. "You guys see anything up there?" he practically shouted into his mic.

A few seconds passed before he got a response. "Nothing yet Detective. We've completed the search on the first grid area, but the trees are so dense up top that visibility is difficult," the pilot replied. "We will continue to circle and alert you if anything changes."

Danny thanked him and attempted to focus on the trail ahead. A shiny red splotch on a tree immediately nabbed his attention, and he tapped Watkins' shoulder to stop the 4-Wheeler. He held his fist up to alert the teams behind that he was stopping, and quickly hopped off and went back to where he'd seen the spot. It was definitely blood, and in the shape of a rough handprint. Steve had been here. He motioned Watkins over, who took his turn inspecting the print.

The SWAT Commander nodded in agreement. "He was definitely here Detective." He glanced around, shining his flashlight. "We should leave the vehicles here. I'm worried we've already lost the element of surprise, so continuing on foot seems like the best option. Let's take a breather and wait on the K9 teams to catch up," he suggested.

Danny nodded, although he wanted to keep going immediately. But the Commander was a friend of Steve's, so he was willing to trust the man's tactics. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. A few minutes passed and the three HPD K9 teams arrived, one a bloodhound, the other two very scary looking German Shepherds.

One of the handlers made his way over to Danny. "Jet is raring to go find your partner Detective," he remarked, patting the dog on the head. Jet, one of the Shepherds, sat obediently, his amber eyes glowing from the flashlights' reflections. "We just need something of McGarrett's so Jet can track the scent," he explained.

Danny waved his hand. "We stopped to eat not far from here. I don't know if we left anything there. Could he track from sniffing the handprint?"

The K9 handler grinned. "Jet could sniff a single hair from your head and then find you underwater," he replied confidently.

Danny allowed himself to grin at that, appreciating the young officer's enthusiasm. "Alright everyone, we'll go dark from here. Radio silence as much as possible, night vision gear on," he addressed the group. The various clicking noises from gear adjustments sounded loud against the woods' silence, the only other noise was Jet whining, staring off to Danny's right.

Danny gazed that direction after equipping his own night vision goggles, and gave the command to head out, Jet and his handler leading the way.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hope you all are still enjoying :). Again, I love reviews and suggestions!

Hiking Adventures, Ch 5.

Steve wove in and out between trees, the pursuing dogs' barking getting louder. There was no longer any rhyme or rhythm to his route, just evading instincts. He was barely staying upright, his body nearing unconsciousness.

He knocked into a tree, gasping when his wound was jostled. It was bleeding again, the bandage soaked. He grunted in a combination of frustration and pain, but pushed himself up and kept going. None of the alternatives were promising he thought absentmindedly.

Suddenly he was blindsided and tackled from behind by another AK-47 wielding thug, the man looming over him, murderous eyes zeroed in on his prey. The former SEAL lay on the ground, panting. The large drug runner made a radio call informing his cohorts that he had found the intruder.

Steve attempted to kick the man's knee joint and was rewarded with a hard kick in the ribs, curling up in a fetal position. Pain was the only thing his mind could comprehend, and he squeezed his eyes closed with a groan. "What do you want?" he tried negotiating, although his voice was barely above a whisper.

The thug grinned menacingly. "You come into my territory and then ask what I want haole? You a witness now, and we can't have no witnesses."

Steve knew his chances of survival were decreasing by the second, so he had to make a decision now. By curling his body away from the thug, he had managed to keep his Glock hidden from sight, and the overgrown gorilla hadn't been smart enough to check him for weapons. He steeled himself for what he was about to do, both hands gripping his gun.

-H50-

Two nearly simultaneous gunshots reverberated through the woods, followed by a chorus of angry shouts, and Captain Watkins instantly reacted by taking a defensive position, down on one knee, combat rifle scanning the area. The rest of the group followed suit, including Danny who knelt next to the captain. After a breathtaking few seconds of pause, Danny clicked his radio twice indicating the command to move. The teams deftly swept through the overgrowth, the urgency Danny felt only increasing.

More yells echoed from the direction the gunshots had come from, and Captain Watkins swirled his fist in a circle, the indication for moving _faster._ He clicked his radio button. "All teams, prepare for contact. Sweep the area carefully, watch for friendlies," he commanded quietly. "K9 officers, release the dogs. We'll follow them."

Danny was taken aback when Jet flew by him, senses honed in on Steve's scent. The large dog bounded ahead, his jaw open in a snarl. Those goons didn't know what they were in for, Danny thought. _Hang on buddy, we're almost there._ He silently clung to the hope that Steve was even still alive.

The rescue teams pushed through the vegetation with practiced ease, but with urgent pace. The area thinned out and became easier to traverse, and Danny checked his satellite GPS. This was where he and Steve had separated earlier, so it couldn't be much farther he guessed.

Checking in with the helo pilot, he confirmed there was nothing new to report from the sky. The K9 officers reported the dogs were still hot on the trail, and Danny jogged faster to catch up.

-H50-

Steve sensed he was being dragged along roughly by the collar of his shirt. Nothing else made any sense. His muddled brain attempted to analyze his situation, but he couldn't think straight. _Head hurts now. Gut hurts. Numb hand._ Had Danny found him? Probably not. Danny wouldn't be dragging him like that.

His senses sharpened somewhat with the realization that he wasn't being rescued, only captured. He couldn't bring himself out of the fog until he was unceremoniously slung against a tree, his back taking most of the force. The sudden increase in pain forced his brain out of the haze, and he groaned audibly. His arms were roughly jerked behind the tree and tied with coarse rope.

Foul breath wafted its way into his face, and his head was pulled up by his hair. He opened his eyes blearily, unable to focus. A resounding slap across his cheek served its purpose and brought his captors into blurry view.

The one with stinky breath shook Steve's head again, gleefully. "What have we got 'ere boys? A haole eh? What's your name haole?"

Steve's head swam from the shaking, nausea growing in the pit of his stomach. He had had enough concussions to know what it felt like, and this was no different.

He sucked in a shaky breath, and met the eyes of his captor. "My name is Commander Steve McGarrett, Five-0 Task Force, badge number 8934-58."

The thug dropped his grip on Steve's hair with a muttered curse and backed away, raising his weapon. The whole group were talking earnestly amongst themselves, weapons trained on Steve. Apparently they didn't like the fact that they'd almost killed a cop. He wasn't sure giving his real name had been the greatest plan, but he couldn't take it back now.

Stinky Breath glared at him up and down, seeming like he was unsure of what to do. The decision was made for him when two large German Shepherds wearing police vests bounded into the clearing, one latching onto his arm with a crushing grip, the other attacking the drug rings' dogs. He screamed and fell to ground as gunfire and shouts of "Police! Drop your weapons!" erupted from all directions.

Steve couldn't believe his eyes. The cavalry was here! Unfortunately he couldn't move, all he could was lean over and hope a stray bullet didn't have his name on it.

Abruptly he felt his wrists cut free, but the split second of relief was cut short when he was forced to stand by one of the thugs, who had Steve's Glock pressed against his jaw.

"Move!" the brute shouted in his ear. "You're my ticket outta here!"

The former SEAL wobbled unsteadily, arms wrapped protectively around his midsection and shuffled in the direction he was told. A few seconds went by and the thug was halted by a shouted command. "Stop right there! Let him go now!"

It was the unmistakable voice of Danny Williams. Steve nearly sobbed with relief, even while the thug tightened his arm around Steve's neck.

 _Danny was here. Everything was going to be fine._ He pitched forward, somewhat intentionally, and it gave Danny the opportunity he needed to put two bullets into the thug, who was dead before he hit the ground.

-H50-

Danny's chest locked up when he saw his partner being dragged up by the neck, forced to be a human shield for one of the thugs. Forgetting the surrounding gunfight, he shouted a command to stop, and Steve's blood covered head rose slightly, hazy eyes trying to follow his voice.

Danny was about to shout again when Steve toppled forward, giving Danny an opportunity. Two quick shots dispatched the thug, and Danny rushed to his partners' side.

Steve looked dead. Danny nearly gasped at the condition his friend was in. Gently, he rolled Steve over, cradling his friend's battered head in his arms. A long gash decorated the left side of Steve's skull, and it was bleeding freely, along with his other catalog of injuries.

Danny tried to contain his emotions, choking back a sob. "Steve, babe. Wake up buddy, wake up. Come on, wake up."

Steve's eyelids twitched slightly, and a quiet moan escaped bloody lips. "D'ny…" his voice was so quiet and raspy that Danny wasn't sure he had actually heard it. He leaned closer and Steve tried to clear his throat. "Gracie…o-o-kay?" he rasped.

Danny smiled through the tears threatening to escape and nodded. "Yeah buddy, thanks to you she's good."

A faint smile ghosted across Steve's face before a wave of nausea hit him. Danny sensed what was coming and lifted Steve onto his side. Steve vomited up everything he'd eaten that day, along with a concerning amount of blood.

By then, the shootout was over, the police teams handcuffing the few thugs that were still alive. Danny urgently clicked his radio. "I need a medic now! I have McGarrett and he's in rough shape."

Chin and Kono burst through the trees and knelt down beside Danny, concern evident on their faces. Chin got out a large medical kit from his pack, and handed Danny a roll of gauze and a bottle of alcohol, along with medical gloves. "I'll look at his stomach while you clean up his head," Chin offered.

Steve's head was still perched on Danny's knee, soaking the spot on his pants dark red. Danny gulped and hurried snapped the gloves on. He met Steve's glassy eyes. "This is gonna hurt babe, but I promise I'll try to get it over with soon okay?"

Steve nodded almost imperceptibly, his whole body tremoring.

Danny carefully soaked a piece of the gauze with the alcohol and gently began cleaning the gash. Steve hissed in pain, but to his credit didn't attempt to move away.

Captain Watkins joined them, apprehension about Steve clear on his face. "I've got the chopper circling back to our position, and they'll lower a stretcher."

Danny finished cleaning the head wound as best he could and wrapped the remaining gauze around Steve's head for protection. The injured man's eyes flickered open again, unfocused and pupils dilated unevenly. He seemed to be searching for something, but unable to see it. "D'ny…I…can't…see much…" he murmured.

Danny looked up at Chin and Kono, the level of worry about their boss' condition ratcheting up a notch. Danny gently held Steve's face toward his own. "Steven, did you get shot in the head? Do you remember?"

Steve's eyelids fluttered a few times, his attempts to remain conscious a losing battle. "Dn't…'member…" he slurred.

Danny was on the verge of breaking into full-blown tears. Steve looked he was dying, and there wasn't anything Danny could do about it. He pulled Steve's upper body close, intent on staying with him until the chopper's medical team arrived. The injured man's head listed against Danny's chest, his body finally giving up on staying awake.

Danny frantically checked for a pulse; it was weak and slow, but there all the same. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

The familiar _thwup thwup_ of the helicopter blades echoed over their position, and Captain Watkins waved them down. Two medics repelled down the lines, along with a metal basket for patient transport. They made a fast beeline for Steve and set to work assessing his condition. Danny shouted what little he knew to help, and it wasn't long before they had Steve strapped in and ready for liftoff, an oxygen mask, and bandages obscuring most of his face. Danny shouted to one of the medics that he was going along, and the medic hooked him up to his own repelling gear.

The three men were hoisted up and secured in the rescue chopper, which turned and headed straight for Tripler. Chin and Kono glanced at each other sadly, wondering if they would see their boss alive again.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Almost to the end! I apologize for the delay in posting, work schedule picked up so didn't have as much time as I planned for writing. Anyway, this is where we reach the medical terminology, so please forgive any inaccuracies. If real doctors read fanfiction I'm sure there's a lot of cringing.

Hiking Adventures, Ch 6.

Danny tried not to panic as the medics worked intently on his partner. Phrases like "excessive blood loss," and "thready pulse" echoed over the radio headsets as they worked to stabilize Steve.

Suddenly the heart monitor leads they'd just attached to Steve's chest indicated he was going into arrest, the harsh whine of the machine ringing in Danny's head. He gripped Steve's limp right hand tightly, willing him to push through.

One of the medics reached for the portable defibrillator, and Danny hurriedly backed out of their way. They proceeded to shock Steve once, with no luck. Again. No pulse. Danny's chest ached more with each whine and jolt of the machine. _Come on buddy. You're strong. Don't go out like this._

At last, on the fourth shock, a faint blip registered on the medical screens, and Danny nearly collapsed in relief. He tapped one of the medics on the shoulder. "We have the same blood type. I can do a transfusion right now if it will help him!"

The medic nodded, "Yes sir Detective. We don't have much O-positive on hand, so that could very well save your partner's life."

Danny hurriedly rolled up his sleeve to let the medic clean the area and insert the IV line. He hardly felt the needle go in, all his focus on his partner. Steve's face was incredibly pallid, with bruises forming around his head wound and under his eyes.

"Be honest with me, is he going to make it?" Danny asked softly, almost not wanting to hear the medic's answer.

The young medic looked solemn. "I'm not sure sir. He's in rough shape, and I'm concerned about his head wound; it is symptomatic with a skull fracture. Hopefully the specialists at Tripler can make a difference."

Danny nodded mutely, trying to keep himself together. The other medic snapped his fingers. "Detective, your transfusion is helping; his blood pressure is improving slightly."

Danny allowed himself to take a deep breath, the relief evident on his worn face. The rest of the ride to Tripler was somewhat uneventful, with Steve hanging on, and Danny absentmindedly wishing he could've been there for his friend, instead of running away from the danger. Granted, he was getting Grace away from said danger, but he should have never let her come along. He knew blaming himself wasn't helping the situation, but he couldn't stop himself.

The pilot indicated they were beginning the landing process, and instructed everyone on board to strap in. Danny ignored that command to stay by Steve's side.

The helo landed safely and a team of nurses and doctors rushed out of the rooftop entrance with a stretcher ready to go. They quickly and efficiently loaded Steve onto their stretcher and hurriedly whisked him through the hospital doors, Danny following just as quickly since he was still attached to Steve's IV transfusion.

Once inside the hospital staff quizzed both Danny and the helicopter medics about the Commander's condition and any prior ailments. Danny answered what he could but when it came to any previous head injuries, he had no idea when it came to Steve's past in the Navy. The man was a trouble magnet, and could've sustained any number of head wallops, Danny thought.

The trauma doctor on hand was Dr. Taylor, a stout man with a military buzz cut. He shook Danny's hand and proceeded to get any and all information he could in regards to his patient. Upon seeing that Danny was still donating blood, he requested more bags of O-positive blood be prepped.

"You look exhausted Detective, so we're gonna disconnect you from this IV line and let you rest," the doctor said kindly.

Danny nodded and sat quietly while a nurse did as asked. After the line was removed Danny was patiently but firmly told he needed to vacate the room while they did X-rays and further assessments.

Danny exited the ER trauma center lightheaded from the transfusion and made a beeline for a bathroom to wash his face. The dirt and sweat accumulated from the entire day felt like it was suffocating him, and the cold water from the bathroom sink felt glorious. After making himself look more presentable, he found a coffee machine and nearly downed the contents of the cup in one gulp. His phone rang and the caller ID indicated it was Kono.

"Hey Danny, I've got you on speaker with Chin; how is Steve?" she asked, voice sounding small and worried.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed slowly. "They just took him back for X-rays and other things. One of the medics in the helo was concerned about his head, said it was symptomatic with a skull fracture."

An audible gasp sounded over the phone, followed by a few seconds of silence. Danny took a deep breath and continued his explanations. "He lost a ton of blood. I gave him some through a transfusion on the way here, and the medic said it probably saved his life. Doc said he would let me know the second he knows something."

Kono tried for reassuring. "This is Steve we're talking about. He's strong. Anyway, Chin and I are taking these useless pieces of garbage to HPD and then we'll be there as soon we can okay brah?"

Danny rubbed his eyes tiredly and told them to be careful. "Also, see if you can get any of them to talk, find out who did this to Steve," he said darkly, his meaning clear.

Kono promised they would do their best and ended the call. Danny plopped himself down in the empty waiting room and leaned back against the wall. It was nearly 3 am, and he couldn't remember the last time he ate something. He was so exhausted that the thought of getting up to find a snack machine was thoroughly disinteresting, so he stayed put. Soon he was sound asleep.

A soft tap on his shoulder jolted him awake some time later, and he opened his eyes to see Dr. Taylor, looking tired and not very optimistic.

The military doctor sat down beside Danny and cleared his throat. "I understand you are Commander McGarrett's medical proxy Detective?"

Danny confirmed with a silent nod of his head, wary of the bad news that was sure to come.

Dr. Taylor took a deep breath and continued. "Well, there's a myriad of issues, but my main concern is his head wound. It was caused by a large caliber bullet at close range, and the damage is serious. However, maybe a centimeter to the right and we wouldn't be having this conversation, so in some ways the Commander is lucky."

Danny silently stared at the floor, waiting to hear the rest.

Dr. Taylor sensed his unease and went on. "Right now I'm concerned about a possible brain bleed and swelling around the fracture point, on his left temple. If that happens we will have to bring in a neurosurgeon for a craniotomy to relieve the built up pressure."

Danny physically balked at the thought of such a procedure. "What about his stab wound and his hand?" he asked anxiously.

Dr. Taylor met his eyes and thought for a moment. "His left hand has 3 broken metacarpal bones, one of which was shattered. It needs a metal pin and several micro screws to piece it back together. With some physio that should be okay." After a short pause, he continued. "The knife wound is rather complicated. Based on entry point and force, there is a lot of internal tears, and most likely will require multiple surgeries to correct everything. But it didn't damage any vital organs, so that's a plus. Right now the Commander is too weak for any surgery, so I have him in a medically induced coma to give his body time to rest."

Danny cleared his throat, trying to keep his emotions in check. Dr. Taylor sensed Danny's inner turmoil and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "I know this is a lot to take in Detective. But your partner is strong, I mean that. I've seen many patients not make it this far with less severe injuries."

Danny swallowed thickly and tried to force his voice to stay calm. "Can I see him?"

Dr. Taylor nodded, "Of course. I'll show you the way, and have a nurse bring the rest of your team when they arrive."

With that, he led Danny back down the hall to the trauma center.

Upon entering the cramped room Danny was taken aback by the amount of machines surrounding and attached to Steve. _Keeping him alive,_ he thought sadly.

He moved to sit in the hard plastic chair next to Steve's bed, and placed his hand on Steve's limp arm. "I'm here buddy," he whispered. "I'm right here. You can beat this okay? Just rest and get your strength back."

The methodic _whoosh_ of the ventilator was reassuring but also disheartening at the same time. It was keeping Steve alive, but it also meant he was hurt enough to need it. Danny slowly scanned his friend's features, from his bandage covered head to the puffy bandage around his abdomen. The nurses had forgone giving him a hospital gown so they could have easy access to his stomach if the need arose. He looked so pale, Danny couldn't believe it. The dark tattoos on Steve's upper arms provided a vivid contrast with the overall pallor of his normally tanned body.

Danny sucked in a shaky breath. It was hard to fathom how mere hours ago they were setting off on a fun hike, with Steve looking excited to be with Grace and looking full of life. Now, he was clinging to life because he was so damn _protecting._

Danny squeezed his eyes shut to prevent the tears from finding their way down his face. Turning into a blubbering baby wasn't going to help Steve's situation any, so he took several steadying breaths. His hand still on Steve's arm, Danny leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair and allowed himself to doze off.

-H50-

Danny wasn't sure what woke him, but he slowly raised his head from where it had been on Steve's bed against his unmoving arm. Yawning, Danny glanced at his watch. It was nearly 6 am. Kono was asleep in a chair at the foot of the bed, her hair draped over her face. Chin was in a similar position next to her.

Danny leaned back and stretched his cramped neck muscles. A nurse was in the midst of checking Steve's vitals, and she sensed Danny's unvoiced questions.

"He's holding his own Detective," she said softly. "His vitals are holding steady, and his blood pressure is back up to a decent level."

Danny smiled slightly in thanks, and turned back toward his friend. Steve was still unmoving, so Danny gave himself permission to leave the room to find some food. It had been more than 12 hours since he'd eaten something, and he was famished.

Danny exited the trauma room somewhat slowly, his exhaustion finally catching up with him even after the short catnap against Steve's arm. He wandered down the hallways in search of the cafeteria. It probably wasn't open at this hour, he mused. A snack machine was his best option now.

Upon finding one, he sleepily pushed the buttons for a package of Pop-tarts. He was hoping the excessively sugary snack would give him a boost of energy. Munching on one of the Pop-tarts, he made his way back to the coffee machine, this time getting a large cup. For hospital coffee, it wasn't bad. Slightly bitter, but drinkable. Feeling more energized after the food and coffee, he headed back to Steve's room. It was probably going to be a long day.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting, I'm bad about finishing projects. As always, I love reviews! Here's a long chapter to wrap things up.

Hiking Adventures, Ch 7.

It was now day 4 of Steve in a coma, and Danny felt his concern and frustration increasing by the minute. The doctors had discovered a slow bleed in Steve's brain the previous morning, and were attempting to treat it with a different concoction of drugs before risking surgery. He was now in the Neuro ICU, where visitation was very restricted, much to Danny and the rest of the teams' exasperation. They all wanted to be near Steve, to provide moral support for his recovery. Dr. Taylor let them bend the rules on occasion, so each of them got a few minutes to sit by Steve's bed each day.

The waiting and worrying game was wreaking havoc on Danny's psyche, and he paced the halls relentlessly, in between angry interrogations of the surviving meth ring members. None of them knew much of anything to be of use, except for one. He ratted on the rest of them in exchange for less prison time. He gave up suppliers, leaders of the gang, even the thug who had shot Steve. It was all Danny could do to _not_ murder the perp right then and there with his bare hands. Chin held him back and ordered him to take a break. All that had been yesterday. Today had been an endless cycle of pacing and the doctors not knowing when Steve would wake up.

Danny sighed and slumped into a chair in the hospital corridor. The governor had given permission for Five-0 to distribute their cases to HPD detectives, therefore giving the team time to keep up with Steve. Chin and Kono weren't keen on just sitting around waiting, so they were back at HQ working on a case anyway, and took turns checking in with Danny on Steve's condition.

Danny knew he should be there as well, since there wasn't anything he could do at the hospital, but leaving Steve completely alone didn't feel right. He scrubbed his face with his hands, knowing he needed a shower and a shave badly, but Dr. Taylor had promised to come by with news earlier that day, so Danny continued to wait.

Finally, the doctor emerged from around the corner, looking worn but not discouraged. He sat down beside Danny and cleared his throat. "Well, I have some good news. The bleed in Commander McGarrett's brain had subsided, which is great progress. If that continues to improve, we can rule out the need for a craniotomy. However, there are still the wounds on his abdomen and hand we need to contend with. The stab wound will undoubtedly be a long and complicated procedure."

Danny nodded numbly and motioned for the doctor to continue.

Dr. Taylor took a deep breath. "I made a few calls earlier and one of the best trauma surgeons I know is on his way from the mainland to assist. Should be here within a few hours. As of a bit ago I dialed back the drugs keeping the Commander sedated so we can see if he'll wake up on his own. I need to try to get permission from him before moving ahead with the surgery, but obviously that's up to you if he is not conscious."

Danny cleared his throat. "You have my permission to do whatever is necessary to save his life, of course."

Dr. Taylor looked at the floor. "I was reviewing the Commander's medical file. He has a 'do not revive' wish listed in case of combat injuries. I assume it wasn't updated from his time with the SEALs."

Danny nearly choked on the coffee he was sipping. "What?! Why? The medics in the helicopter on the way here had to zap him four times, so I guess I already ignored the DNR."

The doctor shrugged. "I can't speak for him. But I do know since he trusted you as his medical proxy that he understands that you will do whatever is best for him."

Danny was too shocked to speak. He always hounded Steve for seemingly having a death wish and running into hailstorms of bullets without backup, but a DNR order? That didn't seem like Steve. The man was full of life, always ready with a smile and an annoying joke. At least that's how he seemed. Maybe there was something going on Danny had missed, and the thought terrified him.

"Can I be there when you wake him up?" Danny asked quietly.

Dr. Taylor nodded. "Of course Detective. Having a friend nearby will probably be a good thing for him when we attempt to wake him."

Danny stood stiffly and followed the doctor to Steve's room.

Dr. Taylor gave instructions to nurses and picked up McGarrett's chart. "He will probably fight the vent tube in his throat when he comes to so we have to keep him calm, kind of ease him into being awake."

Danny responded with a curt nod, and stood beside Steve's bed, and gripped his limp arm. "Time to wake up cargo pants," he whispered. "Come on, let's see those blue eyes."

While there was no immediate reaction, Danny could sense something happening. He gently leaned over the edge of Steve's bed, and willed his friend to wake up.

Steve's eyes began to move slowly behind his lids, and his arm twitched underneath Danny's hand.

"Keep talking to him Detective," Dr. Taylor encouraged. "His brain activity is increasing."

Danny moved his hand to grip Steve's. "Come on buddy, you can do it. Wake up now."

Steve's eyelids fluttered slightly, followed by a low grunt emanating from his chest.

"Easy, easy Steve. You've got a vent in your throat, so just let it be. The doc will get it out soon," Danny placated quietly.

Steve finally managed to make his eyes open completely, and they roamed around the room, eventually meeting Danny's worried face. He blinked slowly, and recognition dawned. Another attempted grunt followed and his eyes began to narrow in panic. He thrashed weakly against the bed, his good arm held by Danny.

"Shhh, shhh, Steve. It's okay, you're safe," Danny pleaded. "Look at me, look at me buddy."

Steve's eyes managed to meet Danny's blearily, confusion and pain registering in them while two nurses moved closer ready to remove the vent tube.

Danny held Steve's attention long enough to tell him they were going to remove the tube, and the relief was evident in Steve's worn out expression.

Dr. Taylor made sure his nurses were ready, and then gently instructed Steve to cough on the count of three. He warned it would hurt because of the stab wound, but it would only be momentary.

Steve blinked his agreement and after the three count he managed a harsh cough. The tube was removed simultaneously, but its removal triggered a gagging fit. Steve seemed to not be able to pull in enough air to control his spasming throat and lungs. A nurse quickly placed an oxygen mask over his face, and set the machine to deliver a high concentration of pure oxygen.

Danny watched in surprise as a tear traced its way down Steve's cheek as he struggled to get his breathing under control.

Dr. Taylor placed a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder. "In and out Commander. Concentrate on that motion."

Danny could see Steve trying to focus on the doctor's words as squeezed his eyes closed. _In and out. That should be simple._ After several seconds of the ragged sounding breathing, Steve managed to take a deep breath, unhindered by a cough. His eyes looked bloodshot and tired, but Danny had never been more relieved to see his friend awake.

Steve concentrated on breathing deeply for several moments, then turned his bandaged head slightly to face Danny. "What…happ'ned?" he croaked, voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

Danny eased himself down in the chair adjacent to the bed, and gave him the quick explanation. Steve immediately inquired about Grace, and Danny reassured him that she was fine, just scared for her favorite uncle.

Steve managed a small smile before it turned into a grimace. Danny signaled to Dr. Taylor, who in turn asked Steve how much pain he was feeling on a scale of one to ten. Steve grunted quietly and held up five followed by three fingers with his good hand.

Danny was surprised at Steve's honesty about the pain level. Normally he would say he was fine after being hit by a truck.

Dr. Taylor held up a full syringe. "Alright Commander, before I can give you a dose of morphine to help with the pain, I need your permission to do surgeries on your abdomen and broken hand. The abdominal one will a complicated procedure, but I assure you that I have the best team ready to go, and another team will take care of your hand at the same time."

Steve's eyes blinked slowly, trying to absorb the doctors' words. After several moments he took a deep breath, followed by a small nod. "Do…what…you gotta…do," he rasped quietly.

The doctor smiled and emptied the syringe into Steve's IV. "That should help quite a bit. For now, just rest. We will do the surgeries in the morning."

Steve only blinked in reply, what little strength he had keeping him awake was quickly fading. He forced his eyes open one more time and found Danny looking at him worriedly.

"'m fine…Danno," he whispered. "Glad…Grace…okay."

Danny crossed his arms. "You my friend are far from fine, but I sincerely thank you for doing what you did to protect my baby girl." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Really Steven. Thank you."

A ghost of a smile wisped across Steve's pale features. "No…problem…Danno."

Danny rolled his eyes. "You need to rest. I will bring Gracie by to see you when you're feeling up to it okay?"

Steve's eyes drifted closed while a faint smile remained on his lips. "Look...forward…to…it," he whispered.

H50

The next day seemed to drag on and on. Danny hadn't really slept the previous night, due to the worry and anticipation of Steve's operation. The doctor had arrived at 7 am on the dot, and his nurses prepped Steve for the surgery.

Danny sat in yet another uncomfortable waiting room chair, trying to distract himself by reading a magazine. Chin and Kono were attempting to do the same, but waiting was getting tiresome.

Chin glanced over at Danny and cleared his throat. "Danny, why don't you go home and get some rest? You've been here more than any of us, and you need to take a break."

Danny met Chin's gaze trying to be annoyed. He knew Chin was right, but he didn't want to leave. "I'm good," he insisted. "I'm not leaving this hospital until I know Steve is going to be okay."

Chin nodded understandingly. The four of them were close as a team, but Danny and Steve were something else all-together. Essentially brothers brought together by a tragedy, as close as two friends could be.

Danny leaned forward in his chair and checked his watch. It was nearing noon, and he hadn't eaten breakfast. "Either of you hungry? Hospital food isn't the greatest, but it's better than nothing I suppose," he commented.

Chin chuckled in agreement. "I'll take a sandwich and some chips."

Kono requested the same, and Danny took the opportunity to stretch his legs. Walking down to the cafeteria, his mind wandered over the past several days. Who knew that a simple hiking trip could have gone to hell in a hand basket so fast? He shook away the negative thoughts and scooped up the sandwiches and chips and headed back up to the waiting room. Together the teammates ate lunch in companionable silence.

It was some time later before Dr. Taylor finally emerged from the ICU ward. He waved at Steve's friends to all sit and then followed suit.

"Well, your friend is a fighter, that's for sure," he began. "We were able to repair the damage caused by the knife, but he will be tender there for quite a while." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "But long story short, he's going to be alright." With that news he smiled and let the Commanders' friends celebrate the news.

Danny offered his hand to the doctor and shook vigorously. "Thank you Doctor. Truly. Remind me to buy you a few drinks sometime."

Dr. Taylor nodded, a big smile on his face. It was days like this that he treasured; being able to tell families that their loved ones would be okay. Working in the trauma ward didn't give him many opportunities for delivering good news, so he thoroughly enjoyed it when he could. "You're very welcome Detective. I will send a nurse when the Commander is ready for visitors." With a final nod he left to check on his other patients and then hopefully take a long nap in his own bed.

 _Later that night…_

Danny paced the waiting room exactly as he had been doing for the past 5 days, feeling like he was wearing a hole into the shiny floor. It was nearing 10 pm, and he was sick of waiting. As if fate itself heard his inner complaints, Dr. Taylor walked into the waiting room with a smile on his face.

"Good evening Detective, officers. Commander McGarrett has shown signs of waking up, so I figured I'd allow a few minutes for visitors."

Danny waved a hand quickly. "Lead the way doc."

As the group made their way down the hall, Danny pulled out his phone and called Rachel. "Yes Rachel I know it's late, but Steve is waking up and Grace needs to see him." He hung up only after she finally agreed to drop Grace off at the hospital.

Chin and Kono told Danny to go in first, and they would follow.

The Jersey detective quietly made his way into Steve's room, careful not to make any extra noise. He sat gingerly in the chair by Steve's bed and placed his hand on his friend's good arm. "Hey buddy, doc said you're gonna be okay. How about you wake up now?"

Steve's eyes slowly blinked open, the effort of waking made easier by the darkness of his room. He licked his lips groggily. "You…got…any…water?" he whispered.

Danny quickly poured some water in a cup and leaned forward to help Steve drink. "Doc said little sips. Too much could upset your stomach after all that anesthesia."

After three small sips, Steve leaned his head back and sighed, nodding his thanks. "How…long?" he asked.

Danny placed the cup back on the bedside table and scratched his chin. "If you mean how long you've been out, it's nearing 6 days. Scared the crap out of us man."

Steve smiled slightly, a hint of his normal mischievous habits showing. "Sorry…"

Danny rolled his eyes but still smiled. "It's good to see you awake buddy. You had all of us worried for a while. If you're up for it Gracie is on her way to see you."

Steve glanced at the clock on the wall and then back at him. "Isn't it…a little…late…for her?"

Danny shook his head. "She's been having trouble sleeping since this all happened, so trust me. She needs to see that you're on the mend."

Steve nodded minutely, his eyes drooping closed again. A slight grimace creased his face and Danny leaned forward in concern. "You okay partner?"

A few short breaths followed by "yeah…" did little to decrease Danny's unease.

Steve peeled his eyes open. "Pain…comes in…waves," he explained tiredly. "'m good now."

Danny reached over him about to push the button on Steve's morphine drip when a glare from the former SEAL stopped him.

"Makes…me…loopy," Steve clarified. "After I…see Grace…I'll take…more."

Danny agreed reluctantly and leaned back in his chair. "If you say so. You up for seeing the rest of the team? Waiting room is practically full since the word got out that you were waking up," he teased.

Steve smiled again. "Sure."

In marched Chin and Kono, as well as Duke Lukela and several of Steve's other friends. His hospital room was nearly full to the brim before a stern nurse interrupted the festivities.

"Excuse me Detective," she addressed Danny firmly. "It is way past visiting hours and there are too many people in this room."

Steve grunted. "Better…listen to…her. She…knows…how…to use the…big needles."

The room's occupants reluctantly cleared leaving only Danny. "I have permission to stay from Dr. Taylor himself," he informed the nurse.

She looked him up and down skeptically before muttering as she checked Steve's vitals and chart. "Okay Commander, your stats are looking good. Don't hesitate to use your call button if you need anything."

Steve gave her his best charming smile. "Thank you ma'am."

After she left Danny whistled. "Regular Drill Sergeant there huh?"

Steve chuckled. "You have…no idea…"

A few minutes later a brown haired little girl dashed into the room and threw herself on Danny's lap. "There's my beautiful monkey!" he exclaimed.

Grace buried her head against his shoulder and sniffled. She hesitated before turning her head to look at Steve.

He did his absolute best to smile reassuringly, even though the bandages surrounding his head and left arm didn't really help. "Hi Gracie. Glad…you're okay…sweetheart," he whispered, holding out his hand to her.

She looked from him and back to her dad before finally sliding off Danny's lap and climbing onto Steve's bed. Carefully she curled up against his uninjured side and laid her head under his chin. "Thank you Uncle Steve. I'm glad you are going to be okay too," she whispered back through tears.

Steve could feel her tears soaking through his hospital gown but he didn't mind a bit. He focused on reassuring her and rubbing small circles on her back. It wasn't long before the exhausted little girl was fast asleep, clinging onto Steve for dear life. It put some pressure on his abdomen but he could deal with it.

Danny moved to pick her up but Steve halted him, "Let her stay…please Danny?" the look in his eyes hardly left room for argument, so Danny yielded.

"I'll probably get in trouble if she's still there when Nurse Stern comes back," he whispered jokingly.

Steve smiled back. "I'll protect you from her partner."

 _Two weeks later…_

Steve carefully rolled his wheelchair down the hospital corridor with his team following close behind. It was finally the day he could go home and he was ecstatic. He'd had enough IVs and catheters and hospital food to last two lifetimes, and he was ready to smell the ocean air again.

Dr. Taylor was around the corner looking at paperwork when Steve breezed around the corner. "Glad to see you are on the mend Commander, but what did I tell you about the speed limits in my hospital?" he joked.

Danny piped up, "Steven here doesn't know what 'speed limits' are Doctor. To him such things are merely a suggestion."

Steve did his best to look innocent but he could tell the doctor didn't buy it. He held out his hand to the man who had saved his life. "Thanks for all you did for me Doc," he offered. "Remind me to buy you a few drinks sometime."

Dr. Taylor grinned as he accepted the handshake. "You're most welcome Commander. Remember what I said about your recovery. Take it slow, and you'll be right as rain in no time."

Danny shook the doctor's hand as well. "Don't worry, I'll be on him like a mother hen."

Steve's grin fell to more of a grimace as he thought about that idea.

Dr. Taylor laughed and wished them all well, and the group made their way to the exit.

As Danny pushed Steve's wheelchair out to the waiting Camaro, his thoughts went back to the DNR order and how he was going to approach the topic with Steve. After getting his friend settled into the passenger seat, he had to make a remark about finally getting to drive his own car. "Feels weird…" he commented.

Steve's eyebrow went up questioningly. "What does?"

Danny shook his head, feigning disbelief. "This…me in the drivers' seat of _my own car_ …"

Steve looked at him sideways and then burst into laughter, quickly reigning it in and wrapping his good arm around his midsection. "Ugh…don't make me laugh," he wheezed.

The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, but internally Danny was still wrestling with the subject if the DNR.

As they pulled up to Steve's house, he decided to broach the topic after Steve was settled in with a dose of painkillers.

Danny helped his friend out of the car and slowly they made their way up to the front door, Steve's breathing hitching every few steps. He was sweating by the time they made it inside and into the living room.

Danny steered him toward the stairs and his bedroom but Steve stopped. "Recliner's fine," he huffed, pain creasing around his eyes. He didn't think he could make it up a single stair at the moment.

Danny helped ease him down into the recliner and he all but melted into it, sighing.

"I'll have Kono stop by the pharmacy to pick up your prescriptions," Danny offered.

Steve just nodded, too worn out to speak for a bit.

"In the meantime you should eat something. You got anything edible in here?" Danny asked from the kitchen.

Steve grunted. "I haven't been…here for…three weeks…remember?"

Danny re-emerged looking sheepish. "Oh, right. You want me to go you anything?"

Steve shook his head once. "I'm good…Mother Hen. Just…tired."

Danny looked pensive as he sat on the couch across from his partner. "Look Steven, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about…"

Steve opened one eye and waited for him to continue.

Danny looked down at his clenched fists. "Back at the hospital, that first night. The doc was going over your injury list. Said that you had a 'do not revive' order on your file. Thing is, in the helo after we found you, the medics had to zap you like 4 times otherwise you would've died." Danny paused and looked up.

Steve was deep in thought. "I was wondering when that would come up," he said quietly. "Look Danny, there's still a lot about me you don't know." He looked down at his left hand encased in a protective cast. "Back in the SEALs…I was different. There were periods where I didn't care if I came back from a mission or not. Some days I even hoped I would go down in a blaze of glory." He tentatively looked up and met Danny's worried face.

"But it's different now," he added. " _I'm different now._ I never wanted to come back to Hawaii until what happened with my dad. But meeting you and the cousins and starting Five-0 changed my life." He leaned back and studied the ceiling. "I suppose I should update my medical file huh?"

Danny took a breath and nodded. "For sure babe. That would be a good idea. All I ask is that you don't make a habit of me needing to act as your medical proxy."

Steve grinned as he closed his eyes. "No promises Danno."

- _The End-_


End file.
